Prayer of a Teacher

Today is an anxious day in the life of a teacher.

The room is set up, copies are made, planning has been done.

Tomorrow is zero hour.

Tomorrow, the kids come.

Many teachers I know spend this day wandering around in a kind of trance, hoping the year they are about to embark on is a good one. Good students who come to class bright eyed, bushy tailed, and eager to learn. Excellent parents who share your educational philosophy to the letter, who show up, ON TIME, to every conference and dance through the halls, singing your praises so loud the principal cannot help but join in the joyous refrain. Test scores so high Oprah herself will take notice and have you as a guest on her show to share your wisdom with the masses. And who wouldn't want a few days worth of heavy snow sprinkled in just for fun.

These lofty aspirations aside, we all hope for a good, positive year.

In fact teachers so fervently hope for a successful year that they engage in many activities the day before the year begins to give themselves a leg up, an edge to push them past everyone else.

These have been theorized by some, guessed at by others, and were even predicted by the great prophet Nostradamus.

They have never been revealed outside of the hallowed halls of academia.

Until now.

So...what can you as a teacher do the night before school starts to ensure a smooth, successful year?

- Make sure your years supply of Prozac is filled.

- Spend the day watching Freedom Writers, Mr. Holland's Opus, Dangerous Minds, Akelah and the Bee, Lean on Me, Dead Poets Society, or any other completely true to life Hollywood film made about teachers that will make you feel that your year will turn out EXACTLY like them. After you have had a good laugh at this suggestion, move on.

- Obsessively plan out your entire year. Then plan a back up year. Then plan a back up for your back up. Ensure that all back up plans are completely structurally supported by the state standards. Email copies to your principal, the PTA president, and the Head of the Board.

- Sacrifice 50 spotless bulls and 20 virgins to the god Odin that he may bless your endeavors with strength and victory. (This one is very difficult to pull off due to the fact that it is easier to find 50 bulls than it is to find 20 virgins these days. I blame Baywatch.)

- Consume as much alcohol as is humanly possible so that, no matter how devastatingly hung over you are for the start of school in the morning, the year can only get better.

- Spend the entire day at the pool or beach in complete and total denial that summer is over. When a friend makes a joke that you have to go back to real work in the morning, pants them and shove them in the water.

- Lay on your living room floor, tucked into a protective, fetal ball, drooling and mumbling until your spouse kicks you and sends you up to bed.

As you see, there are many things a teacher can do to ensure a smooth and productive year.

I am, of course, kidding (except for the comment about how much easier it is to find bulls instead of virgins). It is true however that the night before a new school year begins is one filled with nervous anticipation and, hopefully, excitement.

I have a simple routine I follow, and after many years in education, it seems to work pretty well.

After spending a fun day with my family (The Wife is a teacher as well...The Peanut wants to be a teacher some day, as well as a presidential, soccer playing, policewoman firefighting violinist) I will read for a bit and then turn off the lights. Before I glide into the deep waters of sleep, I pray.

I pray for patience. I need to remember that each student is a unique individual. Like fingerprints, no two students are exactly alike. Each comes to me at a different stage of development, academically and socially. It is unreasonable to want them all to be at the same level just because it would make my life easier. I need to do the best I can for each student where they are.

I pray for energy. I know that I am the single most important influence in my classroom when it comes to setting the mood. If I am happy, upbeat, and enthusiastic I increase the odds for that energy to permeate into my students. Likewise, if I am negative, sour, or tired the same will occur. Like a hot air balloonist, I have much control over how inflated or deflated we all are.

I pray for sensitivity. Twenty-five human lives from twenty-five different backgrounds, religions, and home situations will come to me. They will look to me to understand them, to give them acceptance, validation, and support. I need to remember that just because someone did not grow up with what I had or was not raised the way I was, that does not make me superior to them. I need to accept and care for my students where they are when they come to me. I also need to be open to the things I can learn from my students on a daily basis.

I pray for compassion. Some of my families are single parent. Some of my students are being raised by their grandparents. Some are the oldest and the responsibility for raising their younger siblings falls to them because mom or dad work multiple jobs just to make ends meet. Some are going through active divorce proceedings. Some are coping with difficult custody arrangements from past divorce proceedings. Some are coping with life situations that are so terrible and confusing that I as a thirty-five year old adult would struggle to comprehend them. These children come to my door each day and are expected to learn. I must remember that some days this will be easier for them than others.

I pray for wisdom. I know I will make mistakes. It is an inevitable by-product of the human condition. I pray for the wisdom to minimize my mistakes. I also pray for the wisdom to learn from the ones I will make.

I pray for endurance. A school year is a marathon, one run no matter what the conditions are like. I need to be mindful that I must remain as strong on the last day of school as I plan to be on the first. There are parts of the year that pass with the ease of a down hill race. I pray that I do not get complacent at those times. But there are also times of a school year that pass with the gut wrenching agony of an uphill race. I pray that my energy will not fail me when I need it most.

I pray for my colleagues. Though a school may be comprised of a multitude of individual classrooms, it is a community. I need to remember that the other adults in my building will be just as nervous, just as excited, just as fallible as I will be. I pray that I can be an asset and encouragement to my fellow teachers, that I will reach out to them when they are in need. I also pray that I in turn will reach out to them when I find myself in need of assistance.

Lastly, I pray that when my students leave my room that I will have made as much of an impact on their lives as I know they will make on my own. There has not been a year that has passed by where a class has not taught me a multitude of things about myself and the way I view the world, for good or for ill. I will always be indebted to my students and their families for the things they have taught me.

These things I will pray. Then, I will sleep.

At some point in the night my clinically insane beagle will shove her cold, wet nose into the small of my back. And some time after that, as the sun begins to rise, The Peanut will pad not-so-softly into our room and hop into bed with us, snuggling in between us. I will lay there for a bit, savoring the preview of heaven that comes from having my dearest ones so close.

Then my feet will hit the floor...and another school year will begin.

M.I.A.

Boxes, books, sweating, painting, moving, grunting, sweating, planning, copying, grunting, cutting, pasting, calling, visiting, sweating...

Must be time for another school year to begin.

Unfortunately the blog gets neglected like a Beverly Hills latchkey kid.

Hopefully this self imposed exile will end soon.

I know my six readers must be getting pretty antsy.

Back to the planning, and sweating, and calling...

Training Camp or I Should Have Been a Sports Photographer (maybe)

The Eagles new season begins today with a Pre-Season game against the New England Cheaters...er...I mean Patriots. And while I will spend the first quarter nervous as hell that the Eagles ride on The Injury Express will continue, it will be GREAT to have football back on the big screen and screaming out of the surround system.

So, in anticipation of tonight's game, as I clean off the grill, check the beer supply, and spice up the salsa, I offer these shots from our trip up to training camp in Lehigh two weeks ago.

Enjoy and, if you are so inclined, click into the comments section and give me your predictions for the season.

E-A-G-L-E-S...EAGLES!!!

Wordless Wednesday

Aftermath of a summer thunder storm.

I Am My Own Worst Enemy

Most days I consider myself to be a fairly intelligent and well-read guy. Not Mensa Society material to be sure, but comfortably in possession of a better than average intelligence. Other days I feel like I am one corked-fork poke in the eyepatch away from being Ruprecht.

Today was one of those Ruprecht days.

The Peanut spent the night with her grandparents and she successfully lobbied to spend the day after swimming in mom-mom's pool. Finding ourselves presented with a free morning, the wife and I decided to go catch a movie. So at 11:00 we hopped in the car and drove to the theater to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

We got to the theater, mortgaged our home to afford two tickets, bought a small popcorn and a thimble full of soda, and headed for theater #9. As I passed the men's room nature's call grabbed my attention and, not wanting to miss any of the movie, I answered.

I walked into the empty stall swinging my keys in my hand, whistling the song Ma Nama Na. Why that particular song? I don't know. I already told you...it was a Ruprecht day.

I shut the door to the stall and went to unbutton my shorts when I realized that is not a task I can accomplish with my keys in hand. Now, on a Non-Ruprecht day I would put them in my pocket, as any slightly intelligent human being would do. But my mind was on the ridiculous song I was whistling and the movie I was looking forward to seeing so I put the ring of keys in the corner of my mouth.

(I think you can see where this is going)

There I stood, getting ready to take care of business with my keys hanging from my teeth, still humming that stupid song. Just as the flow was about to begin I got to the big "Ma NAMA Na" part of the song and instead of continuing to whistle, I opened my mouth to sing it loud and proud. Gravity, sensing it's opportunity, grabbed those keys and guided them straight into that questionably cleaned movie theater toilet.

There I stood, my pants around my ankles, mouth agape, staring at my green Eagles house key lying at the bottom of that porcelain bowl. With a silent thanks to the gods of urination that I had not yet commenced my bladder emptying activities, I quickly grabbed the keys out of the bowl and dropped them on the floor. This wonderful experience was accompanied by some colorful language from yours truly that I won't repeat here.

After completing my task, I washed the keys in the bathroom sink and put them in my pocket. Caught the movie (enjoyed it for the most part) and headed home.

The keys?

They are sitting in boiling water right now. I am debating just getting a new set.

Today was definitely a Ruprecht day.

Fatherhood Friday - A Warning

Took a mini vacation this week with stops at Eagles training camp, Sesame Place, the In-Laws, and the Please Touch Museum in Philly. Just got back not long ago and I am quite tired so today's FF post will be short, sweet, to the point, and it just may save your life.

If you ever go to Sesame Place (A GREAT place to take the family by the way) and see this guy walking around the park...

...and you get the urge to tickle him and see if he really does have that cute little laugh, PLEASE DON'T!

The park employee wearing the costume will NOT be amused by the joke and the resultant meetings with park security and then the Pennsylvania State Police will not only be incredibly embarrassing for your loved ones, but it is also pretty much a buzz kill for the rest of the day.

Consider yourself warned.

Wordless Wednesday

Passing the torch...